All The Time We Have
by FanYaoiLover5
Summary: This is the story of the two and all they've been through. I find the fact that no one has yet to make a FanFiction of this to be quiet sad, and I am proud to try and kick it off. With all the fan art you would think more people would be making these things. There is cursing, violence, and there will be lime and lemon involved in future chapters. Rating will change accordingly.


_**Please Note**_: Deadpool/Wade Wilson is not very old in this Fanfiction, and is perhaps anywhere in the age range of the regular Avenger team I.E: Iron Man, Hulk, Captain America, Ect. So please realize he is only, at the most, around fifty or seventy years old in total, and that he has not accumulated a vast number of scars as of this point as he has in most versions of himself. However, he will be shown to have more scars than early chapters such as this one, for there is no stripping or partial nudity of Wade in this one. Be patient and you'll get that scar fetish of your satiated, I promise.

* * *

Sitting on the steps of the main gate, he waits for the car to come around. It would likely be some agent again, what with how much running around everyone has had to do with the recruiting thing going on combined with the recent villain attacks. All the same, he wished he could walk home today-that there was some way he didn't have to see anyone right now. Today had not been his day at all for some reason. Even getting up in the morning was awful. If waking up to the emergency alarm wasn't enough, he had Coulson dragging him around the entire tower for an hour straight until the "threat" was gone.

When the ringing in his ears finally stopped he got to be forcibly dressed by Agent Hill, and it's not like anyone told him what was even going in the first place. Kate ran by dressed for action, and before he could even get a word in edge wise she pushed him into a closet and left him there for a god forsaken long time while everyone fought some idiot who was trying to beak in and test his guts against the Avengers. Finally, he was dressed and everyone was rushing him out the door to school, and Fury drove him to the front gate where they nearly killed four other students with a speeding spy car. The entire school kept asking him about if that was actually director of S.H.I.E.L.D, and no one would stop talking about the "Attack On Stark Tower" all day.

If all that wasn't stressful enough, he had ten minutes to get from the gate to the other end of the campus if he wanted to be on time to his Genetic's Engineering class before his professor locked the door. If it wasn't for Harry driving his scooter to school and having a class three rooms down from his, there would have been no way that door would still be open.

The day did seem however, to get better when the class went to the labs to continue their term paper research and final projects. Since the labs are run by _Oscorp_ and _Harry Osborn_ is one of his only friends outside of the Avengers and their future generations, he had of course worked out with Mr. Osborn to get some extra lab time after the other students left in exchange for tutoring Harry when he needed it. Harry would bring his _little_ key card and let him into the lab when he needed, and into**_ science land_ **he went! He would stay in science land too, alone-being the last person on campus that wasn't a **security guard** or a_ janitor_-working on some little string of DNA and writing notes for his paper on his cute little high-tech portable hologram notepad and _suddenly_ everything decided to go all wrong again!

Only he-_of all people_-could get bit by some spider in a lab filled with altered critters and manage to smash it between his hands so there was no way to tell if it was an escaped test bug or a harmless little fly eater-"Because of course during high school gym no strength was available to do a pull up in front of the _entire_ class but go to college and get bit by a spider and it all comes to you in that instant!" he screamed to himself in frustration as the night grew a bit darker with his recollection of the day, and considering his luck combined with the great nausea that was coming on matched by nothing less then a hint of unexplainable fatigue, it was probably wasn't the harmless fly eater... To kick it off, someone got the honor of picking him up because of how late its gotten. If he would have stopped freaking out in the lab then he could have walked home, but Noooooooooooo! He had to pace around having a _tiny_ mental breakdown as all the possibilities ran through his head about nothing less then a bug bite.

"What am I going to do…" He grumbled to himself as he leaned into his hands. "Maybe Uncle Banner could figure something out… No…No, I can't tell him, he doesn't work with DNA he's a Gamma scientist… Too different… Maybe dad… No… He'd just freak out and blame Harry's dad for everything since it was his lab I was in…. _Pops?_" The struggling teen through his hands in the air, "Yeah Pete, let's just ask the only person in the entire family who _doesn't_ understand the difference between a _Shift Mutation_ and _Phase Mutation_!" He through his face back into his palms, exhaling all the air held up in his chest.

Just as he began to take another breath, the 1967 Shelby Cobra drove up at 130 mph, hitting the break and turning to the side so the passenger door nearly knocked his head right off as he sat defenseless on the steps. Peter starred the reflection in the shined paint where his life finished flashing before his eyes, the car at a complete stop in front of him. No words came from his mouth but the first ad last thought in his head was, Oh that's just _great_! I feel like shit and _Fury's_ driving me home... In one of dad's speed cars... Man, I hope he doesn't have some spy mission car chase under the patch for the ride back to the tower...

He was snapped from his worry by the horn blaring through his ear drums, breaking his concentration and stunting his ability to hearing for at least a good twenty seconds. Standing up groggily, leaning against the car and opening the door he slumped into the cool leather seat. Of course there was no black pirate-spy at the wheel-Oh no, no, no! This egotistical ass sat there with a half cocked grin, obviously enjoying expression caused by the near death experience he had given poor Peter just moments ago, hair unbrushed and a scar coming up from under the popped collar of his white "_dress shirt_". He hadn't many scars that the eye could see unless he started to strip, but of course none of them were on his face because so far he had been very _careful _not to_ ruin_ it.

Peter fell into the car sweating and tired. He reached over himself, shutting the door and leaning back into the seat hoping that not a word would be said to him. However, words are always said when it comes to Wilson because he loves to hear himself talk. The man never stops talking. "Hope I didn't give you _too_ much of a heart-attack there, I couldn't resist seeing how far the pedal drop before it broke." He cocked an eye to Peter as his foot pushed the gas, the car still in park. There wasn't anymore of a response than a glazed over stare in Wades direction as Peter slipped his bag off his shoulder and let it fall down by his feet. He threw his right arm to cover his face, the other just resting on his lap. The fatigue was getting worse, and there was no way Wilson's driving was going to help the nausea by the looks of it… "Can we just _go_ already…" Peter murmured to Wade, who had gotten himself a frown at Peter's lack of a fuck to give.

"Fine then, well go kill-joy. god, your as bad at taking a joke as miss tight ass, " Wade reached over Peter, their chests pressing against one another for a moment like the weight of Thor's hammer , and he couldn't breath again until Wade got off-stretched the seat-belt over Peter and buckled him in. Wilson could feel the heat of Peter's body as he did so, and it was clear the air wasn't high enough, so he reached over to the console and cranked up the clod like a day in December. "And I bet all the grammar Nazi's just loved the last thing I said, didn't you ya spoiled bratz? Hah, get it, because I said bratz instead of brats!?" He looked off at nothing in front of him and laughed at his own rambling, just like he always does. All Peter could focus on was the shiver running down his iced spine.

* * *

As they drove, Wade kept one eye on Peter, watching his heavy breathing and increasing sweat output as he was swayed around by the car when it turned. +How the hell is he sweating when I have the air conditioner on freeze-your-damned-balls-off?+ He reached a hand over and took hold of Peter wrist, checking his pulse… It was seventeen beats faster then it should be… Without much thought Wade opened his mouth again, "So, _you_ do drugs or something?" He said this bluntly, and with a bit of playful shock. It would be great to have a druggie-buddy after all, but at this point it was just a question. Peter looked over, half dazed and head bobbing around with each bump, and his brow furrowed, "What? No...no, why would I do drugs? The repercussions of drug abuse to the body are so great in mere probability and number that the likelihood of living an average lifespan at best are turned to crap the moment you take a hit of something, so why would I assume that I would be the freakishly small percentage that would be unaffected by substance abuse? Haven't you heard that I'm _fragile _enough without gambling by body." Every word as husky at best, and filled with a slight sense of spite for the comment. There was still something wrong though... Maybe Wade was passing it off as drugs but Peter knew there was something wrong for sure now that he had talked for more than two seconds. He knew because his breathing was open mouthed and hastening, and he could see the sweat stains forming on his clothes.

Finally came the worst part at this point. The_ silence_. All he could hear was himself gasp for air when he opened his own mouth along with the engines hum as Wade rushed back to the tower. The blur of scenery as the car zipped by Central Park… Or was it just another park? Hell it could have been Jurassic Park for all he could tell, and he didn't have a voice left to ask right now anyways. All his strength was centralized on staying awake… It was like the entirety of life was being pushed onto his body all at once instead of gradually like it should work. Everything went black here and there, only snapping back in when there was a booming honk from passed cars or a roaring honk coming from in front of him... It always turned out being Wade thinking no ones driving fast enough.

As his head bobbed about, he could see the tower in the distance, its entirety becoming nothing more than a blob of shapes... Black again, only to come back when the car bounced over the speed bump of the parking lot entrance to the car garage. His heart jumped, and suddenly the world was vivid as a dream. The colors of the car, tanned and red with gold dials, the blue of his own jeans, the tints of the light as it hit the windshield, and even the separation of cement slabs making up the walls was defined to him-though only for that instant of fear before it all faded again to a blur of grey and fuzzed out corners.

* * *

Wade got out, slamming the door behind him, and pacing over to the passenger side. Before he could fumble out of his seat-belt, Wonder Wilson swung the door open and cornered him in there. "What's _wrong_?", he demanded, breath hitting Peters face. He shifted, trying to get focus back into his eyes. "N_o_thing…_nothing_… I'm f_i_ne…" his voice shook as he spoke, and suddenly his face was within an inch of Wades nose. Eyes starring him down, pinning him to the chair. "Don't you lie to_ me_ like that Peter, you're real bad at it. Somethings wrong, and if _you_ don't tell me I'm calling your p_a_pp_y_." With that and his 'You're a daddy's boy,' sass he went to get up, already with the cell phone flipped open and dialing.

Peter's options flashed through the still sane part of his mind. First to the call: His parents were going to freak out ten times worse then they did whenever he got a cold or sprained his ankle playing, and those instances alone involved having Banner triage him in the car on the way to a S.H.I.E.L.D. medical care facility where they checked everything for him just to be on the safe side. Normally that wasn't a bad thing, because it would mean a day off of college and Pops famous chicken soup and feel-better-crackers. This time though, he had another scenario in his head. What if he was exposed to something in the labs today, at the college or at OsCorp Laboratories? Not only that, but what if they found that thing he was exposed to and ran invasive tests to find something really wrong. What if it had something to do with the genetics work everyone had been doing and it was altering his DNA in a way that would interest the scientists at S.H.I.E.L.D who would request more time with him, the specimen, and lie to his parents to keep him inside and closed off from any help he could get? No. Hell no! That couldn't happen... But what if it did? Or it could just be a bad cold coming on, but what sick coincidence of God could that be?! It wasn't worth the risk.

He reached out as he stood, trying to swipe the phone from Wade, earning a silly look from the sly dog. "Did you _really_ try to take _my_ phone just now Petey?" Wilson looked the poor kid over as he held him steady with his free hand, the other hoovering over the 'call' button on his phone. Peter managed to raise his head just enough for their eyes to meet, beads of sweat pouring from his hair line and blood rushing to the surface of his skin. "Wade... Please... They can't know..." His eyes pleaded with the dead-man walking, telling him to have some form of mercy on him. Of course, Wade was many things, but this time those would come with a price. His eyes narrowed, taking in the flustered teens appearance in all its muffled glory. His clothes were askew and just loose enough naturally to show some collar bone, glasses fogged by his raspy breath, and hair mess up from a day of running his own fingers through it as he pondered the questions to life that none of you could answer. "Give me one good reason," Wade said to him bluntly, and of course Peters eyes widened as he looked away-searching for an answer to get him out of this situation.

As the little scientist picked his fading mind for an answer that would satisfy the man his future currently depended on, he thought of only one thing that this man wouldn't want the perfect parent couple to know about their perfect little boy. That thing was something that he would never actually do, but all his symptoms seemed to fit. Not only that, but it could have easily happened against his will considering all the weird ways people have found to drug one another with a variety of substances... It was his only viable option, and in the time it had taken him to think of it Wade had to know the answer by the expression his face had. It was that, "Do I tell him I'm high or not?" expression he had seen in many people unable to speak. Wade locked hi phone screen and pulled Peter in, holding him up by his shoulders excitedly. "So which one was it then, something strong or just a little starter?" Peters eyes shifted to him, taking in the fact that Wade had believed his lie without him having to say it. His eyes shifted again, not because he wanted them to, but because they couldn't keep a focus anymore than they already had.

"I...I don't...really know... _which _one..."


End file.
